<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>And They Were Roommates by orphan_account</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23431807">And They Were Roommates</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account'>orphan_account</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Doctor Who (2005)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Roommates, And the Masters are roommates, And they live across the hall from each other, Bisexual Yasmin Khan, Chaos, Enemies with benefits?, Flirting, Friends With Benefits, Inspired by Valc0 on tumblr, Multi, Or not, The Doctors are roommates</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-04-07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-04-07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-01 10:54:19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>670</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23431807</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Nobody really knows how four entirely different people - a grouchy old university lecturer, a part-time worker at a toy store, a high school teacher, and a mechanic - ended up rooming together, including them, but it works. For the most part. There’s snarking and electric guitar at 3am and the Glitter Incident that they do not speak of, but for the most part, it’s pretty simpatico. </p><p>The problem - or problems, plural - lie on the other side of the hall in the forms of the disowned son of a Prime Minister, a scary co-worker who looks like a dark Mary Poppins, and a man with an ambiguous career whom Thirteen catches looking at her in the hallways maybe one time too many to be casual.</p><p>But it’s fine. <i>Fine</i>.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Thirteenth Doctor/The Master (Dhawan), Twelfth Doctor/Missy, past Tenth Doctor/The Master (Simm)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>61</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>And They Were Roommates</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Fic is based off of the amazing Valc0’s tumblr! Definitely check her out if you like anything Doctor Who, she’s incredibly talented! This particular chapter uses dialogue from her comic strips, but I’m just using that as a sort of reference to get my feet on the ground, so I can make more original material!</p><p>Valc0’s tumblr - https://valc0.tumblr.com/</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It was six a.m. and the milk was gone.</p><p>O stared expressionlessly at the empty carton in his hand, before squeezing it so hard the last pitiful few drops dribbled out of the spout, and then throwing it into the bin with too much force. <i>Honestly,</i> it was like living with zoo animals. Well. One zoo animal. Missy harboured a similar loathing of empty packets sitting deceivingly on a shelf like they actually had something inside, the little bastards, and sometimes she simply threw things away that weren’t even empty, just annoyingly close, meaning the culprit was -</p><p>“<i>Saxon</i>!” O yelled, his voice breaking the early-morning haze. “For fuck’s sake, <i>stop</i> putting empty milk cartons back in the fridge!”</p><p>“Oh, my bad.”</p><p>O started, and spun around. Sitting crossed-legged on the kitchen counter, blonde hair ruffled and wearing a long, droopy T-shirt was Thirteen, whom O had assumed had crept back to her own apartment whilst he slept on account of waking up to an empty bed. In one hand she was clutching a box of Special K, which was slowly soddening at the bottom as a large, dark stain oozed from inside, dripping milk onto the kitchen tiles; in the other hand she was holding a spoon aloft. </p><p>“Yes, I’m still here,” she promptly informed O’s horrified face. “And if you want cereal, better grab a spoon quick. The box is getting soggy.”</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>———</b>
</p><p> </p><p>“That’s a bit of cardboard.”</p><p>“Nuh uh. That was a cornflake.”</p><p>“You just ate cardboard.”</p><p>“It was a <i>cornflake.</i>”</p><p>“It was floating.”</p><p>“Well duh. It’s a floater.”</p><p>“Don’t ever say shit like that.”</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>———</b>
</p><p> </p><p>Harry Saxon Jr himself woke up several hours after The Cereal Incident, as Thirteen was calling it in her head (O had decided to try and forget it had happened). Saxon peeled himself out of bed at two in the afternoon and padded, yawning, to the kitchen, craving toast with too much butter, only to step into a puddle of lukewarm milk, slip, and scramble furiously to his feet.</p><p>“<i>Okay, fuckers</i>,” he raged, slamming the door to the living room open and addressing the ensemble before him with narrowed eyes. O and Thirteen were curled up on the three-seater couch, and the cute guy with the floppy hair from next door sat at their feet. All three were staring intently at their television, and all three were jamming controller buttons like their lives depended on it.</p><p>“Who wants to explain why I just stepped into a puddle of goddamn milk in my kitchen?” Saxon demanded, wiping his foot on the carpet furiously.</p><p>“Missy’s kitchen,” O called unhelpfully. “You don’t have a job.”</p><p>“I wanted cereal, but your bowls were all dirty and using a plate felt wrong, so I used the box,” Thirteen explained without looking at him. </p><p>“Yeah, sorry about that,” Eleven called from the floor, looking earnestly up at Saxon (and forfeiting the game he was playing). “I wanted to clean, but we got carried away with Smash, so... I have an extra controller if you wanna tag?”</p><p>Saxon’s eyes darted incredulously from dishevelled O, to Thirteen wearing an oversized shirt (which - didn’t that belong to O?) to the doe-eyed young man smiling sheepishly up at him, and felt himself shrivel up inside. </p><p>“You know what? Fine. There’s too much to unpack there. Since I’m not tagging with that <i>snake</i> on the couch there-” O flipped him off “-who’s it gonna be? Fuckable cute guy or gremlin girl?” He chucked himself onto the couch with vigour, forcing Thirteen into O’s side with a disgruntled sigh.</p><p>“Gremlin girl?” she snapped, chucking a controller onto his lap, her eyebrows scrunched indignantly.</p><p>“Don’t worry,” he replied, firing up his remote. “I’d fuck you, too.”</p><p>He pretends not to notice Eleven’s snort from below, or the way O turns to look at him sharply, worried, Saxon bets smugly, that he was serious. Oh, and that was interesting, wasn’t it? Definitely something going on there. </p><p>Whatever. He’d find out. It was a small complex, after all.</p>
  </div></div>
</body>
</html>